


i didn't know magic actually exists nor the fact that you like me, but i never would've thought legitimate magic can bring us together.

by writing_blockhead



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: AAAAAAAAAAAAA MA'AM IRON FOR ACCOUNTING YOU ARE THE TINY DEVIL, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Charms and Charming People, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Philippine Rituals, The Woes of Having Accounting; A Subject Usually Taught to College Students, also, and there's not much Septiplier in here yet, hello second chapter is out!!! fml!!!!, hey Mark's here lmao, hey!!! first fic in ao3!!, i just hate placing characters out of the blue and not getting their personalities right, i'm pretty new to this but i hope you like it!, idk if you consider Aga minor despite at much i wrote them, mobile editing and typing is suffering, so be prepared! or not bc i love to hiatus a lot, so i hope you like Aga!, this fic will be a three parter or so, this is just establishment of the plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 20:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_blockhead/pseuds/writing_blockhead
Summary: Kulam. To curse or to charm. To jinx. To charm.Charms. The man needs a charm. To charm the heart. Someone else's heart....No, he doesn't want to manipulate that his heart. Only his own.For the tightening in his chest seems unbearable at the sight of him.........Kulam, huh? Wasn't there rumors of a shop with the same name?





	1. purchasing a grotesque but cute keychain (laced with magic)

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i'm blockhead, an amateur writer! so, to celebrate my n00b writing skills and delve into the hell called Septiplier (i didnt mean to come in here but there are too many good writers in here ilu all aaaaaa—), i decided to write a simple fic where Jack wants to charm this guy he likes but he hates manipulation so he decides to manipulate his own heart instead.
> 
> he has been feeling like a jittery doll when he's around this guy he likes and he wants out on his feelings, but it just always lodges in his throat. it's a sign of his being nervous, which is out of his character. so Jack goes to Kulam and check out some charms that will save his ass.
> 
> i did made some own changes than to usual charm gimmicks in local and Western charms. basically, it's quite a mix on both and i'm pretty satisfied! and as for Aga, they're my Pinoy demiboy OC that i made for the sake of the fic. though, i had to flesh them out good so they'll be good to read. i hate characters that act less humane in fics, so i add more life and detail to serve their purpose well.
> 
> enough chit-chat, i'll let you read!

There are many ways once can feel confident. One would be being your usual self and everything will flow out like dew drops falling down to the soil. Another would be practicing on whatever one requires to do and the structure will hold them well to what they’re going to do or what are they going to say.

Asking for guidance and advice of others is an amazing example, too. And if everything else isn’t suitable to one’s tastes, resorting to a dark-looking and potentially dangerous place that is said to have charmed accessories, potions with everlasting potency and amazing art prints created by the shop clerk in the place works, too.

 **Kulam** , the glass window says. It was painted all over and decorated with curtains and beads, serving as a sign for the entire world to see. It deserves to be seen; lovely hues of royal purple, lavender, navy and white swirl and resonate into lovely calligraphy and word art. It was truly a beauty.

Despite the beauty, the enigmatic atmosphere overpowers its beauty.

This intimidates people, but there are people who disregarded the mystery and creepiness that’s shrouded around the air and went inside to inquire for their services. And one of those people is a man who seeks for help.

This man is named Sean William Mcloughlin. Jack is what he likes to be called as. He is still studying in school, but he's away from his campus right now. He is in dire need of help. He also thinks it’s stupid to ask for this kind of help. Jack, a man who is usually confident, sometimes anxious, isn’t so confident in this very moment. Scratch now, almost every day, he felt like his entire being will break down into a million shards if he lets this **one certain thing** that is close to his heart shatter, too.

 _“Best stop thinking about it.”_ The man thought to himself. _"Help is literally in front of you, Jackaboy. All of you have to do is push that doorbell right now."_

The doorbell isn’t anything flashy; just plain white and simple. It looks very nice, actually. It contrasts from the dark colors that the shop has been colored with. The simplicity and minimalism looks appealing to the man named Jack. So oddly appealing that he might end up looking at the doorbell for the entire day and forget why was in front of Kulam.

He realized that he looked like a moron for just standing there, not pushing the button. He pinched his cheek, thinking that his sleep-deprivation (sleep-deprivation to Jack consists of; imagining scenarios that won't exist, from pure fiction to slice of life reality but not really) is taking the best out of him, and pushed the doorbell.  
A loud ring sounded beyond the door, Jack being able to hear it in a more muffled way. There was loud shuffling behind the door and Jack was scared. No, he’s curious. No, more scared. Actually, both scared and curious is he. Yes, that’s more feasible.

Before he could press his ear on the door to hear what might be happening inside, the door opened by itself, wide and ajar.

“Well **that** isn’t concerning!”

It was dim inside, only a few nooks and crannies visible enough within his peripheral vision. “Now, this is just straight out of a fucking horror movie!” Jack remark, already regretting his decision and feeling like he will sprint away from the door and never looking back.

He isn’t going to back down, however.

The man simply took a deep breath and came in with slow, hesitant steps inside the shop. The only thing that was on his head as of the moment was, “This is not going to go well, isn’t it?” Once he was fully in, he looked back at the door, thinking that it’ll shut itself suddenly. But, yes, the door did shut itself. No, it wasn’t very loud and rattling, it slowly closed itself, careful and quiet. Honestly, that took him off guard. That was actually unexpected and cool, now that you think about it. The door is being gentle to you and it excused itself by closing carefully, how enlightening.

The room isn't, though.

Now Jack is standing in the middle of a dark room. Everything feels cold and scary.

Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it?

“Is there any lights in this place? Fucking hell—”

**_Swoosh!_**

The purple candles on the wall sparked itself to living and burning one by one, providing light to the man on the hallway. The air suddenly warmed up, and Jack’s shivering form was no more. This made him feel a little better. Just a little, however.

“This shit’s still creepy as hell, though,” He muttered to himself, walking down the only pathway leading to the innards of Kulam. “It's very pretty and cool, though...” He wasn’t gonna lie, he found this place very cool. In all his life, magic doesn’t exist. No one was extraordinary in a sense of an otherworldly way, no one can cast spells like in books, movies, comics and stories, no one can do magic. Well, at least to the public eye.

Boy was he wrong when destiny decided to make him feel like a bundle of nerves and lead him to this very shop. Now he’s regrets regretting this decision, it makes him feel bad.

A curtain decorated with beads and feathers was a few paces away from him, draped and covered away from his knowledge. He let his hand push away the curtain from the side and he left himself in.

Now, this is starting to look like a mix of modern lifestyle, a witch doctor’s home and wizardry. Floating glass racks are filled with various bottles with many shapes, sizes, colors and labels, and intricate looking accessories with tags on them. There are chairs and tables that are set on the ground, having books and magazines Jack doesn't recognize. A reception desk sits on the ground, scattered with notebooks and materials, and there’s also a book, floating around the tall ceiling.

So many things are going on that Jack has simply lost himself in awe and wonder. Everything is just so whimsical, so beautiful, and so magical. “Okay.” He says out loud. “This is gonna make me wonder why the almighty fuckery am I blind to magic?”

“You guys aren’t well-exposed to magic and probably can’t handle it well, soooo yeah.”

“That kinda makes sense, actually—Chr **IST ALMIGHTY FATHER!** "

He whirled his head to the reception desk, finding another person that wasn’t there before. They looked… Well, they actually don’t look like a person on their scene phase, on shrooms or like his deepest fears and nightmares; they looked normal and plain! Just regular hazel hair, dark brown eyes, very heavy bags under their eyelids ( _“I’m gonna have an inner debate whether excessive eye bags are normal or not later. Maybe I can debate with **him** about this eyebag shit.”_ ) and tan brown skin. A person of color works in this place. Huh, okay.

“How did you get in here?!” Jack asked, practically yelled out of surprise and far. “There was literally no one here when I first came in!” The person simply raised an eyebrow and calmly replied in matter-of-fact kind of tone, “I know this place like the palm of my hand, _kumpare;_ I work in here.”

“What did you just call me?”

“ _Kumpare._ It’s a Filipino word. The definition would be that it’s a way of calling your acquaintance or your friend. There.” They said, not even batting an eye to Jack as they arranged the many sundries on the desk. “I’m the owner’s grandchild, as one would say. I’m not really a guy, though.”

They kept on cleaning up the mess in their desk, staying silent. Jack was a silent as they are, not because he had nothing to comment, but rather it was the shock. After a quick while, Jack finally croaked out a few words, “I’m not gonna lie, you don’t look like someone who would work in a place like this.”

“What did you expect?”

Jack shrugged, face contorted into a look of meek confusion. “I dunno. Someone dressed in eccentric clothes or a teen in their scene phase?” The person chuckled and simply said, “Well, there isn’t anyone with that description, so I guess you’ll have to deal with this guy right now."

“I’m kinda glad you are here, instead of the people I just said, honestly.” That made them chortle and laugh a little laugh, giving out thanks to their customer. “Alright!” They said, wiping the dirt and dust away from their hands. “I was just setting up the desk. Was kinda busy making designs and creating custom bracelets.” They stuck out their hand, beckoning for a handshake. “The name’s Aga Margallo. My customer’s name and problem would be?”

“Jack.” He said, taking the hand and shaking it. “Jack Mcloughlin. And yeah, I’m in a situation where I lost all other means of help."

“Obviously.”

The two pulled their hands away, one going to get a pen on the desk and the other going to the back of his neck, rubbing it sheepishly. “I know this probably sounds stupid,” Jack said, pausing to pick the right words. He took a deep breath and slowly said, “Wouldn’t there be a charm that kinda boosts your confidence or bravery and stuff?”

“Yes. That’s a pretty common anting-anting, actually.” Aga said, jugging down notes for Jack’s request. They looked up and asked, “Do you want a regular anting-anting or do you want me to make a custom one with extra features?”

“Is there a difference to that?”

“A few, actually. Let me show you.”

They stepped out of the reception desk, notepad and pen in hand and stepped towards the area where the floating shelf is. It automatically lowered itself down and carefully landed on the ground. “These are the basic ones. They only serve one purpose and that purpose alone,” Aga opened the rack and grabbed a random necklace. It adorns sandy yellow swirls and a silhouette of a lion, moving around slowly whilst being encased in a bronze locket of sorts. “This would be an example on what you want; a confidence boost. Might have some side effects of narcissism, considering that this is made for very for those who lack so much confidence. Made with the lion’s soul and some cheap but everlasting bronze.”

Jack raised his hand, shaking his head. “I would like that! However, I might become too narcissistic for my own good.” The comment made the person chortle and chuckle. “I swear to God, you are the most endearing customer I’ve ever met!” They said, placing back the necklace inside and closing the rack. They turned to Jack and said, “Okay, let me get you an example of a custom anting-anting.”

The two went back to the reception desk and Aga went below it, opening the drawers and searching for the anting-anting. They mutter out what Jack assumes to be profanities and curses in their native tongue. "I'm not gonna lie, He thought with a look of sympathy towards the worker. "I would be swearing like a sailor in trying to find shit in a very messy place."

"Aha! _Heto na!_ "

They raised up a keychain of an eyeball. The sclera was green all over, veins very contrasting and visible. The pupil has a bright blue hue and the green tail of the end of it looked like a retina, but only thicker and less grotesque. It looked kinda cute, actually. But this caught the customer off guard.

"Uh..." Aga just chuckled at the flabbergasted reaction that their customer made. They knew he wouldn't see this coming. "This, dear Jack," They paused and jiggled the eyeball keychain. "Is an example of a custom anting-anting. You seem to be the kind of person who's lively and optimistic, so this little fella will be your best choice! It gives out bursts of confidence and energy when your heart feels like you need some. Made the design out of the blue; s'not related to its designated purpose."

"My aunt studied modern magic, you see. I was interested in both classic Philippine charming and the world of modern magic, so I told my grandma that my project will be to combine both of them to create an innovation."

"I'm taking that it worked very well?"

Aga nodded and then pointed to the underside of their eyes, "Worth the numerous sleepless nights! No deadline, but it's hard to perfect it!" Jack's mouth simply went in an 'o' shape at the numerous eye bags Aga has. Seriously, it's so dark that you can see the hollow depth beyond them. Poor guy.

"So what does your kind of magic do? The one you improved and shit." He asked, getting curious and invested to whatever the clerk has to offer. "Oh, I made it more controlled! Like, it doesn't go in it's own rate, but it goes on your own. You can control how strong or weak it is and adjust it by your own tastes. Well, not you. I'll be the one doing the adjustments."

"Plus, there's the equal distribution of combinations of magic and kulam, which took a lot of work and precision, honestly. Usually, both magics are difficult to control, combining them even, too. So, pretty much a lot of enchantment, spells and a wee bit of curses on the safe side was done in order to master this kinda stuff and making it staple on its own. God, I must be rambling. Sorry about that."

Wanna know what's going on inside Jack's head after hearing that? It was something like, " **Processing... Processing... Processing..."** with some white noise as a bass to the music of confusion. The complexity of the combined magic was messing around with his head badly; he wasn't aware to any supernatural activities that could possibly happen around him, how could he know?!

"Confused much?" Aga asked their customer, expecting a very slow nod and a lax jaw. And what they asked shall be received; Jack nodding slowly with an open mouth. "I can understand, I was confused in my own magic, too." They clapped their hands, rubbing them and saying, "Okay! Let's not waste more time and get you proper adjustments on this septic-looking eyeball!"

"You pretty much read my mind that I'm very sold on that keychain. It's kinda cute, actually!"

"Glad you like it."

/////

"Boring stuff aside, you excited for the final product?"

Jack was literally beaming with excitement and nervousness. Excitement because he's getting a charmed and grotesquely cute green eyeball that will help him in his confidence problem, nervousness because he wonders how will things go to play when he has this charmed keychain in possession. _"Aga said that it'll give out enough confidence when it feels like I'm nervous,"_ He thought, brain shrouded with anxiety. _"I should be fine, but I don't feel like it. Jesus..."_

The clerk gave out a transparent box ("It looks like a hell lot of glass." "It is glass. Cursed it to be unbreakable." "Oh.") and in it was a much cuter-looking version of the anting-anting and boy, was it an improvement in appearance and oddly enough, the feel around the keychain. It felt like it was looking at its future owner in the eyes (with its own green-blue eye) with kindness, reassuring that he will be fine and it'll help him out. The feeling wasn't convincing enough, however.

Nevertheless, Jack took the box away from Aga's hands and opened it. He may be able to see it from the glass, but it looked so much better when it was opened. The aura of the keychain even felt better, anxious nerves turning back to regular old nerves. "Can I name this little fella?" Jack asked to the clerk, eyes shining bright. "Christian this eyeball to the world? Sure, I guess why not." Aga replied. They brought their hand up and made a motion, as if they want something to be lowered down. The floating book from above which Jack kinda forgotten about for a while descended towards the open palm of the clerk, snugly placing itself on to it.

They opened up first few pages, assuming to be the table of contents, and scanned it quickly. Their face was devoided of worry nor emotion; just focus. It amazed the customer but at the same time soured him for they spiced in insecurities from within. The thoughts swarm again, like jittery butterflies covered in acid. _"I wonder if **he** likes people who are serious and can keep calm very quickly, rather than big, dumb goofs like me. This might not work, I might end up bai—"_

"...go alive, by the way."

A small "huh?" was sputtered by the green-haired man. He realized that he had been spacing out and started into the cover of the rather large book the person was holding into place as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Well, he was mildly interested at what it looked like, but he doesn't understand whatever the cover had. It looked pretty, but that's just it.

_"...Probably I'm like the cover."_

"You alright, buddy?"

Aga asked their seemingly distracted customer, voice colored with concern. "You looked lost in your own head for two times already. You nervous or overthinking?" He just simply shook his head, smiled it off and said, "It's nothing..."

"...Anyways, what were you about to say again, Aga?"

"Oh, you don't mind a companion that goes alive at its on will, right? If so, then..."

/////

The green-haired man exited the shop named Kulam with a smile in his face. The man was named Jack and he lost his confidence in a certain thing. That certain thing was someone he liked, a man that he likes.  
The eyeball keychain is wrapped around his recently bought tote bag with a cool design of a girl holding her third eye in pain, but kept a stance and a face of wrath and triumph. Her third eye leaked both blood and a violet liquid, swirling together to create something new; an obsidian shield. The appeal was strong enough for Jack to get drawn in and buy the tote bag. He loved it to bits already.

The keychain suddenly unraveled itself, crawling up to its owner's shoulder, resting with a look of glee, it seems. The man looked over his shoulder and smiled wide, heart no longer feeling tight.

"Hey Sam? Wanna finally break down the walls of Anxietilous Overithinkaluis and finally lodge out the 'I love you' to a man named Mark Fischbach?"

Sam, the septic eye keychain, jumped up in excitement and determination, fully notioning Jack's agreement.

"Then let's start pining on him!"


	2. content camaraderie but longing for something.

Something seems off.

Not saying that Jack, the guy that made him question his sexuality for a year and the same guy he kinda adores ~~which is a huge fucking understatement~~ for an awfully long time, hasn’t been acting like his usual bubbly, goofy and cute self. There seems to be something that he’s hiding from Mark. Very well hidden from him and his friends, too, considering that it was around three months since he kept doing that.

The thing that Jack keeps on doing is his “interaction” with an inanimate object that he bought from that weird shop Jack bought it from. He fiddles with his new plush eyeball keychain a lot. He talks to it at times, holds it gently as if it was alive, smiles with the brightness of a thousand supernovas at it like he would to a cute dog and gets so…

_So real happy and smiles around it in general._

It made him uneasy. It just doesn’t feel fair to Mark; he always made the Irishman crack up when he wants to make him happy. And due to these ever-growing feelings that he just can’t seem to get out of his ever-worrying core, selfishness also consumed the American. He wanted to be a big part of that giggles, the snorts, the laughter, the tears of the corners of his eyes as he clutch his stomach to cease the pain-induced tickles in there and the stupidity. He wants to reserve a spot in Jack’s heart. He—

No. **No.**

No, Mark isn’t **getting jealous over a goddamn green eyeball keychain**. It feels stupid and humiliating that he would.

It also shows that Mark Edward Fishbach is hitting rock bottom with this extreme adoration for the man named Sean ‘Jack’ William McLoughlin another term for saying that he’s totally crushing on him so hard.

The mere thought was making the student’s head dull, pinching the bridge of his nose and adjusting the rectangle frames rested upon his nose. After that, he quickly drew his hand near his chest, hiding it from any line of sight. He didn’t want to get caught, looking like creep as Jack was arranging stuff from his locker and checking any suspicious activity or items he might have in store.

…

……

………

… Oh yeah, did it look like that Mark was stalking his crush from afar? If that’s the look of it, then we apologize; you’re wrong. Mark just wanted to check if there’s something fishy going on with Jack.

“ _There’s a huge difference to that, right? Between stalking and checking if there’s something crazy going on; there is, right?_ ” Mark anxiously thought as he observed the green-haired man, making sure that he was still unnoticed… Good, Jack’s busy.

**Thank fuck.**

“ _Yeah, there is. I’m just being concerned with my best friend/crush because there has been suspicious activity going on about him! I have a (unestablished) right to check what’s up with him and that’s not creepy at all!_ ”

The inner pep talk finally settled his nerves and he continued observing the Irishman. He was quite silent when Mark found him at his locker at the start, but then he was now talking animatedly. That would’ve been normal if there was someone around the general vicinity but there was literally no soul in sight in the fucking hallway.

“ _He can’t be talking to himself!”_ The hiding student exclaimed in the burrows of his brain (a.k.a. in his own thoughts, he yelled.) “ _Just the way he’s talking right now and the gaps he leaves obviously screams an actual thing “replying back” to Jack!_ ”

**Observe:**

“Well, I think I might be handling it well, honestly! What do you think, buddy?”

“…”

“You think so? If that’s the case, I think I should be holding up free tutoring sessions for 6 bucks an hour.”

“…”

“I know that, Sammy! It’s called irony. I’m very fluent at that.”

“…”

See?

“Who’s Sammy?”

…

… **OH.**

**“ _OH._ ”**

It took Mark a millisecond to realize what he’d done and quickly slapped his mouth shut. “ _ **Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, ShitsHIIIIiiiiIIIIT I’M CAUGHT, FUCK!**_ ” There was nothing rational working in his brain now; just putter utter horror and profanity in his brain hole. The fight or flight instincts took him over and he quickly scrambled away from his hiding spot, sprinting and looking back nevermore. He didn’t even care if he really did say it out loud or a little whisper; if he gets caught by Jack he’s done for.

Cerulean eyes turned to the audible slap and the frantic (?) footsteps he heard, eyebrows scrunched and eye squinted. He went to the source of the noise, but it was too late. There was only a tiny silhouette of the person who made, for a lack of a better term, a little ruckus. The green-haired man would call out, but he decided against it. Jack isn’t the one for sticking his nose on other people’s businesses, unless they require his nose for it, he’ll gladly get help.

The pocket of his hoodie squirmed, the charm in the form of a sentient plush eyeball sticking their eye out to see what’s going on. It looked back up at Jack, giving him a confusing look. Jack shrugged his shoulders and saying, “I dunno, Sam. Can’t see what they looked like nor know what they’re running away from.” Sam seemed satisfied and rested their head on the lip of the pocket. Their owner chuckled and then went back to his locker and retrieving the materials he stored in his locker. “I really gotta thank Aga for this blessing of a sentient eyeball and these spare materials they have,” Jack mused as he grabbed the many scrapbook materials he had been graciously given.

See, the plan is to spill all of his feelings in fancy paper with cool decorations and washi tape, seal it on an envelope and give it to Mark with a speech and shit. I mean, he could just outright say it with Sam’s help, but there’s him, binge watching cool art DIYs, inspiration, and his big crush his friend whose chocolate-like eyes can hypnotize him, baritone voice that he could listen all day, the fluffiest black locks that that he resists the urge to ruffle and mess with, calling it “The Lion’s Floof” (he’s still going to remind him to cut it because it hinders Mark’s line of sight, but the goober just had to be ever stubborn like he is), and just his down-to-earth kindness, hilarity and outlook in life. Just Mark being his little own self encased poor Jackaboy in a state of fragility and love.

He both hates it and loves it.

As he was about to close his locker, Sam jumped quickly out his hoodie pocket and scrambled to the top portion of his locker. “Sam?” Jack asked with confusion lacing the tone of his voice. “What’s wrong, buddy?” When Sam finally reached the top, they slid towards the container filled with many colored pens and tapping on its covered surface with their little nubby tail. Jack’s face lit up, an ‘o’ shaping on his mouth and quickly grabbed the case, loaded with pens and their multiple hues.

“Nothing wrong with a splash of color,” Jack mused to Sam, the eyeball jumping up and down in agreement. What did he ever do to deserve this amazing little green ball of cuteness?

Oh yeah, **being a nervous sack of limped dicks to his feelings towards his huge crush**. Yeah, that’s about it.

_///_

“Accounting?”

“Yeah, I’m very desperate.”

“You need help, in accounting?”

“Yep.”

No, Mark was definitely not using the “ _Hey-I-Need-Help-In-This-Certain-Thing-And-I’m-Not-Using-It-As-An-Excuse-To-Check-Some-Shady-Or-Weird-Shit-In-Your-Place-Or-You-In-General_ ” trick on Jack. He’s decent on accounting, but there are obviously times that he needs help when the trial balance isn’t balanced.

Or crumple his ten-columned journal sheets in vain and frustration because it was the third time he had gotten everything wrong again. _When in accounting, doubt is strong_ , Mark would say in a solemn voice, looking at his tiny bin that’s filled to the brim with crumpled papers. He’d add in, _the pile of rejects is your tower of mistakes and it makes you feel inferior more than ever_.

The Irishman raised a look of confusion and asked, “Why again? You do know that you can ask literally anyone else, Mark.”

“One, you’re better in accounting than me. Two, I prefer studying or asking help to those I can fully trust with, so I’m gonna have to cross out a lot of people. Sure, they’re willing to help out those whose grades are falling to the eternal pits of shit, but I feel like I can trust you more with this poor ass of mine. It feels just right, y’know?”

…

…Did Jack’s eyes look like they were sparkling for a moment there? He started to look like he was caught in a daze, though. He kinda looked a little pink for a second, too.

“And I have no idea on how to make the totals balanced and the rest of that accounting bullshit. So I’m clueless and desperate.”

Aaaaand he snapped out of it.

“Oh. Um, right,” Jack mused, cleared his throat for a bit and shut his locker closed. “Yeah, sure thing. I got some notes and an example with me so it’ll be easier for you.” Just after Jack said the last word of his sentence, Mark exclaimed with a, “Oh thank merciful God!” and lurched forward to his shorter friend, hugging him to the point where bones would crack (thankfully, Mark was a gentle giant of the sorts).

“Woah, buddy!” Jack yelled, confused on where the hell this came from, but amused at his best friend’s antics. He hugged him back (read: Jack hugged whatever his arms can cover for a return hug, making the position awkward and slightly painful), too, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Both of the boys let go of each other, both thinking that the hug took a little longer than it was supposed to be.

“Yeah, so uhm,” Mark stuttered, still having those stupid post-hug daze from your crush/best friend. “Can we go to your place?”

And just with that, Jack took a little while, but he gave out a wide smile and nodded.

Mark is so gonna have guilt tripping on him like a gigantic pole impaling through him, all while in front of Jack, looking as lovely and lively and pink with roses.

“ _Is this what a life in rose-tinted glasses is like? If so, it’s lovingly terrible_.”

_///_

It’s safe to say that Jack is both excited and nervous.

Sure, Mark has been to his home before, usually fooling around, being idiots, playing video games and freaking out over updates on a variety of things (“Dude, did Bones just update Pilot?” “Jack, M **OVE OVER, I’M IN DIRE NEED TO SEE—** “), but there’s like a huge pile of art materials that Aga graciously gave to him with an aura of a saint and the concerned faces of their aunt and her two wives due to Jack’s excessive gratitude. Seriously, Aga probably made a mental counter about it.

So immediately when he and Mark are in Jack’s place, the Irishman told Mark to stay put and make himself cozy because his room is a literal definition of a mess. (Technically he’s not lying.)

“I’ll be back in a tic,” Jack yelled as he sprinted towards his room, throwing his backpack on to the couch and thumping down the hallway towards his room. Of course, it all happened so fast that it left Mark in a confused daze. The green-haired man was spry and speedy, what can he do? Stop the actual accumulation of vim and vigor with his bare hands? ~~Mark then wonders if he can stop the ever energetic Jack with pressing his lips to his.~~

His eyes began scanning around the vicinity, slowly letting his feet walk towards the couch and plopping himself down. Mark also may have accidentally sat on Jack’s bag and get his ass spiked by probably an edge of a book or a pair of scissors. Either way, it all lead to him, giving out a rather loud and embarrassing “Ow!” and he quickly stood up, rubbing his potentially wounded ass.

He spun towards the bag, glaring at it. “Fuck that one spiky thing in particular,” Mark mentally cursed at it, grabbing the bag and repositioning it so he wouldn’t have something sticking out of his buttcheek. After sitting down the couch rather angrily, he once again glared at the bag, getting some suspicious vibes from it.

“ _Maybe if I keep my sights keen, I can see what Jackaboy has right up his sleeve_ ,” The boy wondered, drawing his face closer towards the item in hand, err, rather, on the surface of the couch..?

So Mark waited and watched, anticipating for the following events to unfold.

…

….

….. “This is usually the part where something comes out if the bag. What’s the hold up?”

……..

………...

You know what, fuck it though.

He turned his head at his 3 o’clock, then 9’clock. He made sure to check is 6, too, and then he was confident to check what lies ahead on 12. Mark checked the sides of the bag, just a place for Jack to put his umbrella in case. The front pocket didn’t have much, except for various colored gel pens (“ _That son of a bastard. ‘No spare pens’, my ass! They’re all shoved up in your ass!_ ”) Finally, Mark checked the only available pocket which is the back part. It, too, contains nothing much; just books, notebooks, a pencil case, journal sheets and 10-colummed sheets to use and spare, tiny translucent box that vaguely looks like glass and has a green moving eyeball within it, specialized paper, cute washi tape that Mark wants to steal badly—

…Wait.

Something smells. Not right…

“These specialized paper smells like lemon tart. And now I’m hungry! Godammit.”

Flavor-themed scents always make Mark hungry. Now he wanted to inhale every sweet lemon tart he encounters.

…Wait again.

“That’s the… the fucking keychain, moving.”

As expected, Mark scrambled away from the bag when his mind had quickly processed on what the utter shit he just witnessed. He also fell, ass flat, on to the floor, making it a little sore.

The cosmos of time, space and fate are making an ass of himself and an ass of his own ass.

The boy tentatively stood up, still trying to process and to believe what he just saw. Well, it was a green plush eyeball... Inside a box that looks like it’s made from glass or shiny transparent plastic… Bouncing and moving on its own like Jack would if he’s stuck alone in a room and bored out of his mind…

Things like this don’t happen in real life. It’s impossible. The level of impossibility that’s unlike the canonization of an anime queer couple broadcasted on actual television that barely went past the censorship criteria in Japan but still made it and everyone loved it. Level of impossibility that said canon queer couple will competitively pair skate as a pair because pair skating are for males and females and heterosexuality only.

He peered into the moving eyeball, very shocked and shook in what Mark saw. It stared back at him, mirroring his gaze. Instead of turning into some modern Lovecraftian monstrosity and pulling Mark into its trap, akin to a plot twist in a grotesque novel, the eyeball closed its eye and jumped in what presumably is the emotion of joy. “ _I’m not gonna lie_ ,” Mark thought, eyes softening out his fear. “ _That was adorable and I hate myself for not convincing myself that it isn’t._ ”

The glasses-donning boy smiled widely and waved to the little eyeball. It waved back with its tail—retina?—and continue jumping up and down in delight. Mark chuckled and voiced in his head, “ _This little fella’s suspicious, alright, but there’s nothing wrong with him._ ” He kept observing the little box, checking if the eyeball has a name or something. The eyeball, somehow, sensed Mark’s curiosity and tapped with its tail—or retina—on a seemingly random surface of the box. Confused, Mark took the box and held it up, checking if there’s anything on the area the little keychain hinted at.

Golden script began to appear at the side, tribal yet classical writing materializing on the surface. Mark quickly brought it near to his face to read, shaking the little guy inside it in the process. He gave an apologetic look and began to read the text written.

“ _ **You want wares with magic in them?**_

_ **Need a charm that works just right?** _

_ **Come, gather in Kulam, then.** _

_ **Found in a highway of no-flight.”** _

Once Mark processed on what he read, he nodded thankfully to the eyeball inside the box and carefully placed it back inside Jack’s bag, closing it so he wouldn’t noticed that he was being ‘The Snoop Friend.’ He muttered, “That’s enough info for today. What should I do after this?”

Simple; _hypothesize_.

Jack needed something that required magic because in his eyes, it seemed impossible.

Jack had been fiddling with the rather adorable eyeball keychain because it provided him with something that he needs or wants.

Jack had been anxious and skittish for the past six months.

Mark wasn’t sure why.

When the eyeball wasn’t him possession and presence, there’s less shine and shimmer on his blue eyes. It felt like almost all vim and vigor was sucked out dry from his body and a parasite of anxiety latched on him, hyperaware on something; something that he isn’t sure of.

As much Mark is neck-deep on the Irishman, he didn’t… He didn’t want to intrude.

It’s his own business, Mark always said to himself when he felt like Jack needs help but the man himself doesn’t acknowledge it. He’s a functioning human being that can manage well without me smothering him, Mark vowed for the nth time while he holds down his hand to reach out desperately to the boy he adores.

But…

“I think it’s time for me to smother him,” Mark said to himself, mentally jotting on the riddle from the keychain’s box. “Well, Kulam. Let’s see what you got.”

_///_

“Hey, you got a great score! Real proud of ya, man!”

“Hey! The tutor was hot and willing, Jack! He’s also really nice to let him copy his Accounting stuff to me in exchange of blowjobs.”

“Shut up, ye goober!”

“Heh… But really, thanks Jack. You’re a huge help, man, and I appreciate the effort you have when teaching my dumb ass off. You’re too good for me!”

“Heh, well, no prob. You mean a lot to me, Mark; I had to return the favor.”

Both boys had different intentions, but they had thought of one thing, as if they were linked by the mind,

“ _I really have to. You deserve it._ ”

  
_///_

**Author's Note:**

> yooo, that was long. criticism is nice, even if it hurts sometimes and yes, i'm Filipino myself. i'm shitty at speaking Filipino and Tagalog, thooooo.


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